


Journey to the Middle of Nowhere, part 3

by Buntheridon



Series: Two Sides to Every Tale [6]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Casual Sex, Darkmoon Faire, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Finding Subspace, Horde War Campaign, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Picking up rockstars, Smut, World Quests, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23096830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buntheridon/pseuds/Buntheridon
Summary: She still can't have Nathanos so she finds another substitute. This guy, if you don't remember: https://wow.gamepedia.com/Sig_Nicious
Relationships: Blood elf & Void elf (sisters), Nathanos Blightcaller/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character/Sig Nicious
Series: Two Sides to Every Tale [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647757
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13
Collections: (A high regard for Nathanos)





	Journey to the Middle of Nowhere, part 3

_So, I had my eyes on your favorite bard, your youthful infatuation, sister, to be a momentary relief in my endless thirst for the Ranger Lord. Watching him on the stage amused me enough to know he was a good choice._

The Tauren Chieftains play one hit song about a well-known Azerothian pest humanoid and then retire backstage, leaving their instruments there to wait for the next gig. When the less enthusiastic crowd wanders off the blond sin’dorei guitarist returns and comes to sit at the edge of the stage before Shalaen, all star-like and self-important. To be fair, that’s how most blood elves behave at first. 

“What’s up, doll? I’ve seen you make eyes at me for ages. Either you want to know the name of my tailor real bad or you want to get rid of these clothes entirely. Which one is it, I wonder?”

“The answer to that requires more time and an intimate location. It just so happens there is an opening in my schedule right about now. You busy, gorgeous?”

“Always time for an admirer. I would never make you measure my pants here in the open. Come, meet me behind the stage”, Sig winks at her. Backstage there are several luxurious tents of elven design. The warlock follows him to one of them, the familiar tingle of excitement and the ongoing heat making her giddy.

“Would you like some arcwine? We get it straight from Suramar. I say we – but the others drink some disgusting swill they call ale and the undead–”

She touches his back making him stop and when he spins around flashy as an elf in a band is practically expected to be she doesn’t step back, the blond guy nearly falling in her arms there and then.

“No, thank you. I’m thirsty for something else entirely. I do hope you’re in the mood.” Her hand travels down his golden-blue tunic, fingers already itching to pull his clothes off. Or maybe just his pants, that would suffice in her present state.

“What ever might you be implying, my lady? It cannot be anything we would need more than half an hour for, I regret to tell you our next play time starts very soon.” His polite way of talking is spiced with very suggestive eyebrow movements and smirking.

“That’s enough for me, I have a head start”, she breathes, grabs his lapels and pulls his lips on hers. She hears the guitarist chuckle and his tongue isn’t bashful at all, diving between her lips the moment they touch his. Shalaen whines, sucking his tongue in her mouth, nearly biting it in her need that flames up in the contact. She takes a handful of the rocker’s long wheat-blond hair in her grip. Sig notices her urgency and presses himself flush against her and oh, oh he’s hard already, poking against her tummy. What an absolute _gentleman._

“Mind the hair, I’m a performer, dear.”

“Tie it back and eat me, player boy.” She releases him and pulls her purple robes over her head, nothing but her boots underneath – she left the ship with a purpose and dressed accordingly. His wide grin tells her she’ll get what she asked for when he pushes her lying on the huge netherweave pillows covering half the floor of the tent and kneels between her legs.

“With pleasure”, he replies, his lips already touching the skin on the inside of her knee, the little that’s not covered by the boot. He raises her leg on his shoulder, kisses up her inner thigh, nips it with teeth. Burrowing his hands under her buttocks his mouth encloses around her expectant clit making her gasp.

“Yes, yes, _fuck_ yes!”

Forgetting completely to protect his precious hair the bard gorges her eagerly, sucking and tasting like the most succulent fruit. “Girl, you’ve been ready for a while”, he purrs, probably thinking it was caused by watching his shenanigans on the stage. Pressing the flat of his tongue on her nub just so, sliding over it like a finger on a taut guitar string, again and again, in no time he makes her sing in climax. The anxiety is washed away, all her cells joining the choir.

“I like that sound more than that of my guitar”, he smiles, wiping his face messily on his sleeve.

“You lie, but I don’t care”, Shalaen laughs, sitting up, hands already busy with his belt.

“I also lied about getting rid of all my clothes. I can’t really, I’ll be late–”

“Good, just the pants will do”, she narrates what she’s doing already and the revelation of his erection evokes a deep _mmmmm_ from her. It’s eager and blessed with shape and size. 

“Do I have time to taste you first?” she asks, tilting her head playfully like she were a first-timer. He stands up, beaming at this pleasing morning surprise.

“Definitely, anything for a fan.” She pushes him leaning against a table that gives her ideas. On her knees the warlock licks the thick head of his proud member. She knows she has the upper hand in this encounter, thus being free to put herself in any position without worry. The bard probably knows some simple healing spells and maybe uses a melee weapon if needed, but he’s no soldier. Letting his length slide in between her lips she hums in delight, mind wandering back to her main quest she had forgotten for a moment there, thinking of the Dark Ranger Lord. What kinds of sounds could she elicit from him, if any? If he grunts when a monster hits him, like she has heard on a few occasions, he should also moan if she sucks his probably very unused bit of flesh like this. She takes the cock to the back of her throat, closes her eyes and slides it out again, slowly, her free hand wrapping around the guitarist’s sack. Continuing like this for a while makes her throb in renewed need. Sig chuckles breathlessly, watching her.

“By the Sunwell, you are on fire, woman.”

She gets up, nudges him gently aside and pulls a small contraception scroll from her boot, activating the spell on them with a magical pop. She settles herself on the table face down, ass up, legs in a wide stance. Crossing her hands behind her back she gives an order from bottom to top.

“Lock my wrists and take me.”

“You know you behave a bit like–”

“ –like humans, yes, I’ve heard. It’s a ...phase.”

Shalaen feels his hands roam slowly down her hips, over her cute bum, down the sides of her thighs. He can see everything, she’s wide open and waiting. His touch travels up her inner thighs stopping right before the junction. Like a properly cultured sin’dorei he’s not used to going straight to banging, the seduction and foreplay fundamental parts of the process in his mind. But he _was_ in a hurry and the warlock is very ...eloquent in her persuasion.

She feels him take her wrists in his grip. Something lands over her consciousness like a tingling cloud of calm, she lets go of all mental control and exhales in bliss when he finally enters her. Her soft walls clench and throb around his thick member and she wails already, loving the feeling of being filled, imagining her hands were tied properly. But he’s too gentle, too nice a lover for her specific preferences, very new as they are to herself as well.

“Harder”, she moans, pushing her hips against him. “Like you did on stage.” She adds that to make it sound like she wants this man particularly. _I mean I do, it’s just – he’s not my number one choice._ There was no time for the conversation about him not being the one behind her condition. He wasn’t asking either, so she skipped it without a second thought – and he’s enjoying now so it's all good.

“Are you quite sure?” the gentlemanly rockstar double-checks and when she nods vigorously he complies, his thrusts soon rocking the table they’re leaning on, his hands gripping her wrists and hips. Oh, she’s found a hidden taste that’s almost completely opposite to her everyday behaviour. Sig moans low and she feels him approach the same peak she’s teetering on already. His long hair tickles her back and a weirdly specific image of Nathanos with a silk cord whip shoves her over the edge with a cry. The bard joins her climax, trembling as his seed is released in her. 

He kisses her between shoulder blades before they get up. “Stars! You are a fiery one.”

“You are not so bad yourself”, she grins, out of breath.

_“My Faire ladies, gentlemen and all folks, are you ready to rock? Tauren Chieftains are playing live at the top of the hour!”_

“Oops, that’s my ten minute warning. I apologize for the rush, my lady.” He hands her a cleaning cloth, standing close, the warmth between them like a slowly fading microclimate. 

“No apologies necessary, you were just what I needed.” Shalaen kisses him on the lips, puts on her robe and taps at her hearthstone that’s set to Zuldazar. The blond guitarist watches her go, smiling with wordless agreement.

“See you again sometime.”

That evening she takes a boat from Zuldazar docks to the islands of Kul Tiras to finally meet with her turncoat sister _[let me finish, Loreina. I’m approaching the climactic ending]._ Arriving at the eerie Drustvar at nightfall her goblin communication device activates in her ear. Again she had thought the sex would keep her satisfied and relaxed for a while but hearing the low, husky, exasperated voice so suddenly makes her purr like a kitten. She’s not usually _this_ active, what is happening?

_“Alliance forces are mulling about near your location. Ensure this day is their last.”_

Well, why not? She goes about fulfilling the request for the sole purpose of using the contraption’s feedback feature at the completion – the quest is a recording but when the job is done there’s a short moment when the adventurer (read: pawn) can talk to the questmaster. When she’s done she taps the gadget.

 _“The Alliance falters before us! The Dark Lady... will be pleased.”_ Nathanos sounds like satisfying Sylvanas is an arduous task. The warlock can even hear him sigh. 

“Some of us are not as hard to please, sire.” There’s a silent moment followed by a quiet chuckle at the other end.

_“Shalaen. Did you enjoy sucking the life force out of them?”_

“I did.” 

_“Mmm. You can collect your reward at Anyport.”_ The connection clicks shut and she rides off to meet her sister, smiling like a fool.

  
  
  


****

  
  
  


“Well now. As I suggested earlier, you delivering him corpses at every possible turn seems to make him glad. What a beautiful relationship.”

“Shut it. What do you think? Is he into me or not? Am I dead or am I dead?”

“Wouldn’t that suit him better if you were?” Loreina grins, enjoying her sister’s perplexed state. “I doubt Sylvanas would raise you, though.”

“OK, fine, don’t help me.” She gets up and calls for her voidwalker. 

“Come here, silly”, the void elf smiles and Shalaen accepts the hug. “I wish you all the success with your conquest. This was a very entertaining night.”

“I’ll write you once there’s a development. If I’m not too busy boning him.”

“I see what you did there.”

  
  
  



End file.
